Dream a little dream of me
by Driver picks the music O.o
Summary: Natasha Romanov is having bad dreams... Not like monsters and murderers but like sex with the wrong person... wrong sex with the wrong person... WARNING: Slight dub-con, slight BDSM
1. Chapter 1

Natasha felt someone come up behind her then, before she could even turn around, they were on her. They grabbed both of her wrists where they were placed on the counter and pushed them further up the granite surface, effectively bending her over. She squirmed and tried to pull free but couldn't even manage to get an inch out of their grasp, and then they were right next to her ear. She felt hot breath on her neck and got goose bumps in spite of her terror.

"Calm down and this will be fun for you." A man growled into her neck and bit down enough to make her jump.

"Who are you…?!" She shrieked, feeling dizzy with fear and something else. She was not even going to name the other feeling as it was irrational and stupid. He ignored her question and pressed his hips into her backside, groaning as his hard on pressed into her ass. He put a large hand around her throat and yanked up, pulling her body flush against him and she could feel the thick muscles of his chest through her thin shirt.

"Please don't do this… I swear I'll do anything you want just please let me go!" She begged, shaking in his grasp. His hand tightened around her neck just enough to put pressure, not enough to stop her breathing.

"Oh, but this _is_what I want." He rasped in her ear, biting down on the lobe. "But I'm not going to stop you from begging a little more; maybe it'll… soften me up. Make me go easier on you. Then again… maybe not." He turned her around to face him, hand still on her throat, the other going up to tangle in her hair.

She could feel her body shaking in his hands, and couldn't get herself under control. The second he turned her and wrapped his fingers tight in her hair, she reached up instinctively to grasp at his forearms, trying to loosen his vice grip. She regretted it as soon as she touched his sweat slick skin. She could feel the powerful cords of muscle that lay just under his skin and she found herself feeling more turned on than frightened. She looked up from his arms to his face and almost collapsed. She knew this man. Knew him like no one else ever had, or ever would. And he knew her just as intimately. She couldn't believe her eyes and had to blink back the tears that welled up at the sight, but yes. It was him. Clint was standing over her, about to do god only knew what, and she couldn't even be frightened anymore. All she felt was relief. It was just Clint Barton. Her partner and best friend. He was just kidding around. This was all just some silly prank of his that she would have to pay him back for. Except that he wasn't laughing, he wasn't letting her go and joking about how much he scared her. He was grinning, yes, but it was a grin she had never seen before. It was full of desire, heat, and something that was a bit frightening to see in her partner.

"Clint? Clint, what are you doing?" She choked out, beginning to feel the fear creep back into her system.

"I told you, I am taking what I want." He said, leaning into her and licking a line across her collar bone. "God… your adrenaline is so high; I can taste it seeping out of your skin."

She felt him grind into her center and then he… he sniffed her. He put his nose into the juncture of her neck and her shoulder and he inhaled deeply. "Mmmhh… You smell like fear and sex. So sweet." He growled, grinding into her again, harder this time. Her lower back was being crushed into the counter and there would probably be bruises there soon.

She stifled a gasp and tried to keep herself calm. Or, at least, what he would perceive as calm. Inside she didn't know what to feel but before she could even start to sort it out, the hand he had tangled into her hair yanked back. He pulled her neck taut until her breathing came out short and ragged. He ran the hand that was around her neck up slowly until it reached her jaw bone. Placing his thumb and middle finger on either side of her face, he squeezed the hinges of her jaw until her mouth fell open with an audible pop.

She tried to close it but his fingers were firm and it hurt to even struggle. She was definitely afraid now. He didn't appear to care whether she got hurt, though he had yet to hurt her himself. She had only gotten hurt when she tried to struggle and that was her own fault. That other feeling, the one that she had refused to identify earlier, came back when he slipped his index finger into her mouth. She could taste the sweat on his skin, but there was something else there as well, a flavor that she couldn't place. He rubbed her tongue with his fingertip and then released her jaw to slide his middle finger in next to it. He ordered her to suck and she closed her mouth around them instantly, sucking hard and hearing him hum low in his throat. She could taste him better now but still couldn't place the odd flavor on his finger. It was bitter but not unpleasant; it was actually quite the opposite. Whatever it was made her body jolt to life and she reached up to grab his wrist and hold him there. Her tongue wound itself around his fingers and she licked and sucked like it was all that was keeping her alive.

"Good girl." He crooned. "Such a good little slut for me." He pushed them in deeper and growled when she parted them with her tongue and licked around each of them before expertly moving down to the juncture in between. "Fuck! You are too good at this…" He groaned but then his face became hard as stone and he ripped his fingers from her mouth, making her fall into him. "You do it a lot? You suck like that for everyone?" He was right in her face now and his hand tightened in her hair. She tried to shake her head but his hold was like iron. "Answer me!" He snarled and lowered her head a fraction so that she was able to speak without straining her throat.

"No! No one else. Just you. Taste so good, couldn't help it. Got carried away. I'm sorry…" She rambled, half scared and half turned on at his rough tone. He seemed so possessive; she had no idea why that was turning her on so much. The man was physically assaulting her and she wanted to moan more than scream. Not that she had never thought of Barton this way but he was her partner, she knew it could never happen. What was he doing? He was going to ruin everything they had built. And what was with the brute force? He was never like this with her, even when they would spar together, he tried to be as gentle as the fight would allow without letting her win. It never turned her on when he hurt her though. She had no idea what was going on with her now…

He surveyed her frightened expression for a moment and then, all of a sudden, he let go of her completely. "On your knees. Now!" He grunted, and she hit the floor without even realizing that she was going to do it. "Good girl." He commended and his right hand shot out to grab the back of her head again, tangling his fingers back into her hair. He pulled her abruptly forward and she fell face first into his lower half. She shifted her knees forward so that she was no longer leaning against him awkwardly and then looked up as best she could with his fingers still strong in her hair. His gaze was cloudy with lust and dominance and he pulled her face more firmly up against himself, grinding a little bit at the pressure of her cheek. She realized immediately what he wanted from her and she complied quickly. She turned her face into him and licked him through his sweats. She felt awkward for a moment, licking him through his pants like this, but then she caught a scent coming from him. It was the same thing she had tasted on his fingers earlier but stronger and it made her dizzy to imagine how it had gotten there. He had thought about this ahead of time. He had touched himself thinking of doing this to her and she had tasted him… Her brain shorted out for a moment and then everything when a little bit hazy. She started to mouth at his dick through his pants, soaking through the fabric until it was almost like she was touching the real thing. She keened high in her throat and tried to pull his sweats down, wanted to get him in her mouth so badly that she actually snarled at him when he pulled her head away and stopped her hands.

"Stop. I don't remember giving you permission to do that, Nat. You have to earn that privilege." He grinned and she almost growled at him. "I want you to beg me for it."

She didn't even hesitate when he made his request. "Please, Clint… Please, I need you in my mouth. Want to taste you, lick you. Want you to fuck my face… Please!" She tried to lean back into him but he was still holding onto her hair and she could barely smell him anymore. A soft whining noise came from her throat and she would have been embarrassed but she needed him and she couldn't help herself.

He appeared to be satisfied as he let her inch closer and she took that as confirmation. She grabbed at his pants and tugged them down hard, not expecting to be met with bare skin underneath. He had not worn briefs as he usually does, come to think of it, she had never even seen him wear sweats before. She must have paid very little attention to him before but now everything was right there in front of her. Literally. He was beautiful. His cock was hard and glistening at the top, pre come beaded at the head. He was long and thick and she would have drooled if she had any saliva in her mouth. She licked him from base to tip and the taste had her seeping through her underwear immediately. She sucked the tip into her mouth and he jolted forward, shoving a little bit too deeply for her but she took it as best as she could. He had the back of her head in hand and was thrusting fiercely into her mouth, going too far at times but she wasn't complaining as he was leaking copious amounts of that flavor into her mouth and she writhed on the floor begging for it. He pulled her back again and she was just as reluctant to go as the last time. She looked up at him and he had his eyes shut, obviously restraining himself. She didn't want that, she wanted him to come in her mouth, hell he could come on any part of her that he wanted to, just so long as she got a taste.

"Get up." He commanded roughly, pulling on her hair and forcing her to stand or risk major hair loss. She got her legs under her just in time to be turned around and swiftly bent over the counter again. She grunted at the impact but remained otherwise silent. He pulled up the skirt she had been wearing abruptly and ripped her underwear off. She felt the fabric tear and was glad for a moment that they weren't her favorite ones, though the moment was cut short when he wrapped one of his steel arms around her waist and plunged two of his fingers into her without warning. She moaned loudly and thrust back into him hard, his palm grinding against her clit. He shot his other hand up in front of her face and instructed her to lick his palm. "That is all the lube you get, sweetheart." She licked his palm thoroughly, missing the taste that his other hand held. Though he tasted very much like his own sweat and she like that just as much. He moved around behind her briefly and then his hand was next to her face, his cock lined up at her entrance. He thrust in so hard that her world blurred. She heard a sharp ringing noise and then her vision went even darker. She felt him thrust again, harder this time—

And she was knocked so hard out of her dream that she almost rolled off the bed. She glared at the ringing coming from her phone and swore to every god that she knew of, in every language, that she would kill whoever it was. She closed her eyes and reached for the phone, opening it and pressing it to her ear in one swift motion.

"Romanov." She muttered into the line darkly.

"Hey, you sound pissed. Who do I need to shoot?" His rough voice ripped her out of her annoyance and she sat up so fast that she got woozy.

"Whoa…" She sighed and bent forward, putting her head between her knees.

"Nat? Are you alright?" His voice got thick with worry and she hurried to answer him so that he didn't call in a firing squad on her invisible attacker.

"I'm fine, Clint. I just sat up too fast. I'm not pissed. Well, not anymore. Is there something you needed?" Her voice was gritty with sleep and she had a flame between her thighs that could burn down a small city.

"Fury wants us in the gym in twenty. He says that we are being assigned to something big and he needs us to get fit incase it goes badly. You up for a little sparring match?" There was a teasing lilt to his voice and she smiled at the challenge.

"Bring it on, Barton. I'll be down in twenty." She said and hung up. She flopped back down onto her pillow and sighed. She could take a shower and solve her problem in there, but she would just have to take another after their training session, to remove the sweat from her exertions, and she thinks maybe one is enough for the day. Instead she lets her hand wander down between her thighs and she tries to relieve some of the tension.


	2. Chapter 2

Dream a little dream of me: Part 2

When she got to S.H.I.E.L.D's gym Clint was already there beating the hell out of a punching bag in the middle of the room. He looked so focused, like there weren't six other people there, staring at him in awe. People always did that when he came in to train though. It wasn't like she could really blame them, it was hypnotic to watch. He was already covered in a sheen of sweat and parts of her dream came screaming back to her in a rush. She felt dizzy for the second time in a half hour and was glad that she was as coordinated as she was because she would be on the ground now otherwise. He looked up at her and smiled like she was the best person in the world and her chest warmed at the sight. He had always looked at her like that, always grinning like a cheeky bastard. Usually, when they sparred, she would try to wipe the floor with his stupid boyish grin, but he only ever changed his expression when she did something that surprised him. That was rare. She liked when she was able to do that, though; he would get this look on his face that was almost pride with a little bit of wonder mixed into it. And then he would grin like an idiot and get back on course. She knew that today was going to be more difficult than any other she had faced just by what she was thinking now. She never named random things about him in her head and she most certainly had never gotten a warm feeling from just a smile. She was screwed and she knew it. He unwrapped the bandages from his hands and walked toward her, now looking a bit concerned.

"Are you alright, Nat? You look a bit… off." He looked like he was measuring her expression and he was walking almost cautiously. She supposed she probably did look a bit freaked out.

"I'm fine, Barton. Let's do this." She had put her hair up before she left her room, as it had yet to be cleaned, and slipped on clothes without even looking. It had taken her a bit too long to 'relieve' herself this morning so she had flown out of her room in a hurry. She looked down at herself now and turned a little red as she realized what she was wearing. The spandex shorts barely covered her ass and the tank top she had worn was tight and long, almost making it look like she had worn no bottoms at all. She dressed like this around him often enough that it really shouldn't be an issue but she had never dressed this way to spar and she was also never so acutely aware of showing skin around him.

"Alright then! Show me your skills, hot sauce." He smirked at her, rubbing his hands together as if to warm them up. She wanted to break his face a little bit at the heat that rushed through her. She never noticed the low timber of his voice before today and she found that him calling her things like that made her very edgy. She schooled her features and slipped into a crouch, eying his form to spot any kind of weakness that she could manipulate. He appeared to be favoring his right side, probably due to the explosion on the last mission.

He had been running out of the building when it erupted in flames and got knocked into the side of another by the blast. She had already been on the chopper waiting for him when she saw the explosion but couldn't help jumping out and sprinting toward the place where she assumed he was. She had heard his grunt of pain through the coms and it had scared the crap out of her. She hated that she was so invested in someone else's safety and also hated that she was afraid for him. Natasha Romanoff was afraid of nothing.

Bringing her thoughts back to the present, she started to circle Clint and he did the same, making his right side look even more vulnerable with the slight limp in his step. She danced around the left side of him and circled back to the right, always watching his features. He looked like he was about to laugh at her and that is what made her pounce on him, no one laughed at the Black Widow. She flung herself at him and her shoulder knocked into the right side of his rib cage. She heard him grunt and she fell back into her crouch, smirking and ready to attack again.

"Not fair, Nat…" He laughed and whipped out his knife. They did that sometimes, if one of them fought dirty, the other could too right? Her heart did a little jump at the sight of the glinting metal and she rushed him. She did a front hand-spring and kicked him in the chest, knocking him to the ground with her feet still planted on his chest. She knew she couldn't stick the landing while trying to stand on him so she bent her legs and her knees came down next to his head, one on either side. She was pretty much sitting on his chest, her legs pinning his arms and she savored the look she received. He had a weird glint in his eye, but there was also that pride that she loved to see directed at her. Then, before she could even move her hands, he thrust his chest up and she toppled sideways. He rolled on top of her and pinned both of her hands above her head, having dropped the knife to grab her. He bundled both of her hands into one of his and reached over for the knife. She hated when he did things like that; he loved showing off his obvious muscular advantage and loved it even more when she struggled, knowing she couldn't break his hold. He brought the knife to her throat and smiled joyfully.

"Looks like you just died." He said and bent down until his face was barely an inch away. "I could spare your life, if you beg pretty enough."

A wave of arousal rocked through her and she made a small whining noise when a drop of his sweat dripped down off the tip of his nose and onto her cheek. Clint's face became puzzled and she used his obvious confusion to bring her legs up and around his neck, twisting her lower body until they were both sideways with her thighs wrapped tightly around his throat. He dropped the knife in favor of keeping himself breathing.

"Sorry, Barton, I don't beg."

"No, it would appear not." He laughed and then stopped abruptly when he breathed in. The puzzled look came back and then a knowing, smug smile came onto his face. She realized what he was smelling immediately and rolled away from him, her face flushing a deep crimson color. She hadn't showered after taking care of her problem this morning and she knew that he had smelled her arousal through her very thin shorts.

"Is that for me, Miss Romanoff?" Clint laughed and Natasha brought herself to her feet, stalking toward the showers. "I'm just kidding, Nat… Wait!" He ran up behind her and stopped her by the shoulders. She was too embarrassed to turn around so he walked around to face her. "Nat, don't be like that. You know I was just joking." He lifted her face with his finger and she looked down to avoid his probing gaze. "Look at me," she looked up and he smiled, "I'm in no position to judge anyone about that. I do it enough that, if the legend is true, I should be blind as a bat by now." She laughed and then twisted out of his grasp.

"You know I beat you, right?" She teased and started to walk away, only to have him tackle her to the ground from behind. "Get the hell off me, Barton!" She tried to twist out from under him but all that accomplished was rubbing her ass into his crotch.

"You should never turn your back to an opponent." He growled into her ear and she wriggled harder, goose bumps creeping down her body. "Ooh! You keep wiggling like that and we are both going to have a problem."

"You know, if you would get the fuck up, we wouldn't have a problem at all." She grunted and tried to buck him off again.

"Darlin', I'm not the type to give up, especially when I am winning." He laughed and grabbed both of her hands, sitting up on her hips and pinning her down further.

"You aren't winning, you are cheating!" She spat, struggling uselessly. "If you don't get up now, I am going to make your problem much worse."

"How are you going to do that?"

Instead of answering his question with words, she lifted her hips into the air, making him slide backward slightly. When she could feel his crotch right where she needed it, she ground backward and heard him gasp sharply. She did it a couple more times until one of his hands released hers and came down hard on her lower back, effectively smashing her hips into the ground. He bent down until he was breathing into her ear.

"Woman, don't start something you can't finish." He whispered and she used his proximity to wrap her arm around his neck and fling him over her until he was laying in front of her on his back.

"Don't let your guard down, Barton. You could get yourself killed." She laughed and got up, looking around for the first time and being very glad that the room had emptied before the dirty stuff happened. It wasn't like her and Clint didn't flirt with each other in front of everyone else, she just never noticed the extent of the flirting until today and she felt embarrassed that she had gone so far. "I am going to take a much needed shower now and you need to take one as well because, like you said, we have a mission. We should talk to Coulson and get the information ASAP."

Authors note: I need more reviews… They make me so happy and it lets me know that you guys are reading and enjoying it. Also I don't quite know where I am going, so some suggestions would be awesome as well :}


	3. Chapter 3

Dream a little dream of me: Chapter 3

Natasha was glad to get out of Agent Coulson's office so quickly. She was sitting way too close to Clint and the small electric charge that seemed to be emanating out of his skin felt like it was burning her alive. When they came in and sat down, Coulson had handed them each a folder about their mark and the details of their mission. It didn't seem so difficult: crash a fancy party as a newly wed couple, get friendly with the mark, get an invitation to drinks at his suite, and then take him out. They had done this type of thing a million times, never as a couple but they were professionals. She was confused as to why Clint had told her this was going to be a big deal.

"You liar," she accused him as they walked out of Coulson's office. She shoved him into the wall and kept walking like she hadn't even said anything.

"Damn, Nat! What was that for?" He winced and jogged a bit to catch up with her.

"You said this was going to be big and it is almost exactly like all of our other missions. Not big at all."

"Well you are always so grumpy in the morning… I wanted to get you up without having my head torn off. Besides, we have never been married before so this is very different. You have to pretend to be in love with me for hours on end, it is certain to be taxing on your fragile mind." He dodged a swipe at his head and continued, "You should feel lucky that it is me and not one of the other idiots here, they would make this hell for you."

Natasha flinched when he mentioned love and hoped he hadn't seen it. "So, when you say _other _idiots, you mean aside from you, right? I don't need more idiots in my life; I already have their king to deal with on a semi-daily basis. And anyway, I am flawless at pretending I am in love."

"You wound me, Nat… Really. We will see about your flawlessness tomorrow. But we are officially off for the rest of the day so would you like to hang out somewhere for a while or just go home and study the case file?" She thought he looked a little bit hopeful but she knew that was stupid. She actually wanted to go home and sleep some more. They wouldn't get much sleep for the rest of the week and she had slept like piss last night.

"I'm actually just going to head back to bed. You interrupted my beauty sleep, Barton." His face dropped a bit but he smirked at her quickly.

"Need some company?" He waggled his eyebrows at her and she felt herself flush red at his words.

"You so much as touch my doorknob and I will end you." She glared and he laughed and put his hands up in the air innocently. They got to her room and she barely gave him a nod before going in and walking straight to her bed. She collapsed on top of the covers and curled into a ball.

She had barely shut her eyes for more than a minute when someone was knocking on her door. "I swear to god…" She muttered into her pillow. She knew she had to go see

who it was because she had superiors and she wasn't on her own time. She sat up stiffly and walked to the door, cursing god and all of his children on her way. When she ripped the door open, she was immediately tackled to the ground and shoved onto her stomach.

"You didn't think I was just going to let it go, did you?" A man growled into her ear and she recognized his voice right away. "You can't just rev a guy up like that and then expect him to let it go, darlin'."

"Seriously? You are going to do this right now? I am tired, Clint, don't make me spar with you right now." As tired as she was, she couldn't stop the shiver of arousal that rocked through her. He was laying all of his weight on her back and she could feel his breath on her neck.

"Oh honey, this isn't sparring. I have no interest in fighting you right now, my mind is otherwise occupied." He whispered and then she felt what he meant. He was rock hard and pressing into her ass like he belonged there.

"Get the fuck off of me!" She yelled, getting a bit scared and realizing the it was a dream at the same time. She remembered someone telling her that if you know you are dreaming you can control it but she knew now and wasn't able to get him off of her. She started to panic and squirm around under him and he moaned loudly.

"You know, all you are doing is making this better for me. But if you don't stop acting like a child, things are going to get very unpleasant for you. I was going to let you enjoy this but you are making that difficult for me. So calm down…" She stopped squirming and thought of what he might mean by unpleasant. Based on where his erection was currently situated, she didn't really want to test him. "Good girl. Now, if I get up will you try to get away?" He crooned in her ear.

"No." She tried to even out her breathing. As with her last dream, his dominant tone was turning her on more than it should. She kept trying to force herself to wake up because even though this was a dream, she was still consciously realizing things about herself that she thought should be kept locked away.

"No what?" He demanded.

"No, sir." She felt electricity shoot through her at the thought of having to call him that.

He got up and lifted her by the back of her shirt before she could even get her feet under herself. She marveled at his strength for a second before she was shoved into a wall, hard. The air was forced out of her lungs on impact and she couldn't even take a short breath before he was on her, tongue working into her mouth. She moaned loudly when his tongue touched hers and her hands when up into his hair. She had imagined kissing him so many times that she had to hold onto him so that she wouldn't collapse. She started to take over the kiss when his hands wrapped around her wrists and pulled them from his hair.

"That isn't how this works, darlin'. You have no power here." He pressed her wrists to the wall above her head and pressed a knee in between her legs. "You want a kiss, you ask. You want me to touch you, you ask." He lowered his lips to her ear, "you want to come, you ask."

She whimpered when he raised his knee to her center. He didn't apply pressure, just kept it close enough to barely touch her clit through her shorts and she felt like she would die if he didn't just move.

"Please… please touch me." She begged him, not caring that she was the Black Widow. She would beg this man forever if she had to.

"Aww, doesn't that just sound so pretty." He growled and raised his knee a bit. "You want more; you have to work for it."

"Anything… please, I'll do anything."

He gathered both of her wrists into one large hand and slid the other down her body. He stopped when he got to her shorts and pulled out a knife from his back pocket. She shivered hard and he looked back up at her in disapproval.

"You know, if you move, you might get hurt. We wouldn't want that now would we? Keep still." He said in a hard voice, opening the knife with a smooth flick of his wrist. He put the side of the blade to the skin at the bottom of her shorts and the cold metal made her shake again. "Did I stutter? Don't fucking move." He warned, digging the metal into her skin a bit before traveling under her shorts and cutting the fabric from bottom to top in one abrupt motion. She moaned when the air touched her skin and he did the same on the other side. Her ruined shorts and underwear fell to the floor around her ankles and she realized how wet she was when the cold air touched her center. He threw the knife across the room and grinned at her. "I don't know if you know this, honey, but you are practically dripping all over yourself."

He slid his index finger's knuckle from her entrance to the tip of her clit and circled around the little nub a couple of times. She moaned out loud and thrust her hips toward him. "Fuck! What did I say, woman? Fine, since you want to move so badly, you can do all the work." He shoved his middle and ring fingers into her abruptly and stopped moving completely. She made a high pitched whine at the lack of movement and he shook his head. "You are the one who wanted to move so badly. You want to get off, you get to fuck yourself."

She took his words as permission and closed her eyes as she started to move her hips back and forth. His fingers were so thick inside her and she thought she could come just from them alone but the more she moved, the more she realized that it wasn't enough. She needed him to move inside her and he wouldn't. She was getting more frustrated the longer she kept trying and finally she just gave up with a growl and stopped moving.

"Are you done?" He asked, looking amused.

"I'm sorry… I won't move anymore I swear. Please help me. I want to come so bad…" She opened her eyes and looked into his gorgeous blue ones. "Please, Clint? Please make me come?"

He growled loudly and slammed his fingers deeper. She would have collapsed at the sensation had he not been holding her up. He thrust his fingers in hard and fast while his erection was pressed into her hip. He was thrusting his hips into her as well and the combination made her want to scream. His thumb just barely brushed her clit and Natasha shot up in bed, sweat drenching her and her sheets. She hadn't even gotten to come…

"FUCK!" She practically yelled and fell back onto her pillow. She hated this unsatisfied feeling. Looking at the clock, she decided she had enough time to rub one out before she had to go to the dining hall for dinner. She decided she would start writing her dreams down, just to keep a small part of her sanity and also because she thought she might go see the S.H.I.E.L.D psychiatrist after this next mission. Something was obviously wrong with her.

Author's note: All mistakes are my own, my beta is sick at the moment so I didn't bother her with this chapter. Please leave me more reviews, I need motivation to keep going.


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